


No Sweat, No Regret

by hjbaltimore



Category: Ant-Man (Movies), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Imprisonment, M/M, Post-Civil War (Marvel), prison break - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-15
Updated: 2016-05-19
Packaged: 2018-06-07 01:14:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6779065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hjbaltimore/pseuds/hjbaltimore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>Scott sighed and thumped his head against the wall. One of the guards, who looked like he had two feet and a hundred pounds of muscle on Scott, made a motion to grab at his stun baton. As though there wasn't a five inch thick plastic-carbon fiber-whatever cell wall separating them. Scott mouthed "sorry", and stepped back a couple inches. Damn these guys were twitchy.</em><br/><br/>Scott spends some time in prison, again, giving him more time than he needs to reflect on his life choices. But it turns out Cap won't leave any man behind if he can help it. Also, Van Dyne women are scarily good at breaking and entering. Or, How Steve Rogers Breaks All His Buddies Out of Prison, and Also Scott</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prison Breaker

“No, Scott. My hands are tied on this.”

“Come on man. You don’t have any pull?”

“I’m still under surveillance after what happened at Pym Tech. They’re trying to decide if it counts as a terrorism attack.”

“But it was your company's building! That was infiltrated by _real_ terrorists! No one even _died_ besi _\--_ ”

“What do you think my lawyers are arguing? Without Cross there’s no one to blame, and you’re a nobody, so they’re coming after me. Even if Ross and I were pals, you broke international law, Scott. You might not even get a trial.”

Scott sighed and thumped his head against the wall. One of the guards, who looked like he had two feet and a hundred pounds of muscle on Scott, made a motion to grab at his stun baton. As though there wasn't a five inch thick plastic-carbon fiber-whatever cell wall separating them. Scott mouthed "sorry", and step back a couple inches. Damn these guys were twitchy. He scrubbed his hands over his face and moaned.

“I really screwed up this time.”

It was Hank’s turn to sigh. “You did what you felt was the right thing. I can’t honestly say whether I would’ve signed or not, so I also can’t really judge when you rushed off to help Rogers. The bigger problem at hand now is military has their hands on the suit.”

“At least it’s not Hydra.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yeah, well, either way they’re listening to this whole conversation, so at least they got a heads up.”

Scott heard fumbling on the other end, ending with muted bickering and heavy steps walking off.

“Scott?”

“Hope?”

“Oh my god. I saw footage of the airport. _What the hell were you thinking?_ ”

“Captain America asked for my help!” He hoped that sounded more confidant an answer than it felt. His hands twitched anxiously.

“The Giant-Man function could have killed you. You have a family that you didn’t even bother to consult with. AND the suit is gone.”

“You’re blowing this out of proportion. Didn’t it take Cross like, sixty years to even get close to--”

“Scott, he was only slightly older than us. And the suit is really the least of my worries. What am I going to tell Cassie? I don't knew her well enough to have a heart-felt 'sorry-your-dad-is-in-prison-again-but-don't-worry-I'll-be-here-for-you' speech. I-I-I I guess, I mean... You weren't officially part of the Avengers, so you might get a lesser sentence but I just don’t… Scott?”

The call was patched through a speaker built into the wall, and that was probably for the best, because if he were holding an actual phone he'd have dropped it. His whole body shook as he tried his hardest to choke back some air. His chest felt heavy, and silent little tears were dripping off his chin.

“I um. Look. Just… hold off on telling them for as long as you can. Please. Especially Paxton because he’s just gonna be a smug shit, you know?” Scott forced out a laugh. “And and and Cassie, she just needs to be a normal kid for a little while longer. No super-nonsense or prison stories.” He cleared his throat and rolled his shoulders.  _Get it together, self._

Neither of them said anything after that. The guy, the big one, tapped at his non-existent wrist watch, and held up one finger.

“Hope, I have to go. I’ll talk again as soon as I can.”

“Scott.”

“Hope?”

“I’ll get you out of there. I promise.”

“Whatdy-"

She hung up. He flopped down onto his cot, and tried not to think about anything at all.

\-----

It was a little ridiculous, really. It looked like an interrogation room lifted straight from the most stereotypical cop movie movie ever made. How could they possibly expect Scott to take the concrete room and the single swaying light bulb, good cop/bad cop routine seriously? Entrapment is what it was. And he maintained that opinion doubly so as they slammed his head down on the metal table.

"Do you think this is a game, Mr. Lang?"

Scott grimaced and shook his head, trying to get his vision to go straight again. He was a little offended that Ross wasn't here. Instead, it was the warden and a few low level cronies. Or something. Whatever the military equivalent for a superhuman prison was. 

"I could ask you the same thing. I told you my suit is powered by magic. I dunno how it works."

The soldier who'd slammed his head made a motion to do it again. Scott winced, but instead the guy just smirked and took a step back.

"The suit you used during the skirmish at the airport matches exactly the kind of tech we've suspected Hank Pym of hiding for years, and now we have proof. You want to explain how you got a hold of it? How you became acquainted with Mr. Pym in the first place?"

Scott shrugged. "I mean, if you really gotta know, I stole it. Didn't even know what it was. I put the thing on, played around with the controls and just kind of," he clicked his tongue and looked around the room. They all looked ready to twist his neck 180 degrees around. They really needed some better forms of stress relief on this glorified inner tube. "Just kind of winged it, you know? Pym just never bothered taking it back."

The warden blew a ring of smoke in his face from the fat cigar he'd been chomping on. Jesus, another thing he'd only ever seen in movies. "Mr. Lang, your cooperation into our investigation of Pym Tech would be highly appreciated. I am certain Secretary Ross could arrange some sort of reduced sentence if you were to help us out. Why don't you tell us what you know about the Ant-Man project."

Scott scratched his nose. "Right well here's the thing. I never signed any accords. I was never part of the Avengers. And my request for a lawyer has been routinely ignored, so there's that. You guys never even told me what I'm being charged with or how long I'll be here. Plus, the accords really hadn't even been ratified yet, technically speaking, and the last I checked it was still unconstitutional to enforce ex post facto laws..."

God, he was just rambling at this point. It was all true, but it didn't mean a damn thing. This was the sort of thing that probably fell under the category of terrorism, which meant he was going to fucking die here. Soon, probably, given the looks of pure contempt on the faces of those around him right now. Because he _wasn't_ an Avenger. He had no publicity. If he went missing there were only half a dozen people who would even raise any questions. There would be no horde of fans circulating electronic petitions to get him out or demand answers. But here he was, running his fucking mouth. Not that giving Hank and Hope up would even make things better. Who knows if this guy would uphold his end of the bargain?

The warden stubbed out the cigar on the tabletop and straightened out the stack of paper's heed been fiddling with the whole two hours they'd been at this. 

"Take Mr. Lang back to his cell. We will resume this at a later date."

\-----

He was probably going to die of boredom before anything else. They only time they ever got to leave the cells was for major medical treatment. Anything less than minor surgery would be done in the cells or in the common area just outside of it. Same went for haircuts and shaving, which they were told they'd receive once a week under intense supervision. They weren't even allowed to hold the razors themselves. Showers were three minutes long every two days under a privacy-less shower in the corner of their cells. Fresh clothes once a day. Maximoff had it the worst, not even able to move her arms, and needed help every few hours to piss with the straitjacket on. She had a special water fountain installed to drink water hands free, but just about anything else needed the aid of another party. The three of them would always shout at the guards to let her free in the cell. She was just a kid, and wasn't the collar rigged to explode more than enough reminder to not use her powers? 

It wasn't like Scott knew any of them that well. He knew Sam the best, and before the airport the most interaction they had was him tearing apart the wings. But the girl really was just a kid. Early, early twenties at best. And she was being treated like like an animal. It didn't help that she was seemingly the only woman in the whole damn prison, either. Not a single female guard or soldier on staff had been seen. 

But he could only stay fuming for so long. He punched the one of the walls in frustration and was sedated with something in the air. So whenever they all ran out of things to shout at each other across the cells, not even able to really look at one another, they sat in silence, and glared at the ceiling.

Scott wasn't sure what day it was, or how many had passed since imprisonment, and nobody would tell him either. He couldn't even get the time out of the guards when they were around. Clint guessed it'd been about eight days, tops, given their sleep schedules. It felt like so much longer. So about a week since Stark came by, and about six days since the call with Hank and Hope. It almost felt like a victory that neither Rogers nor Barnes were stuck in here with them. It didn't stop him from feel kind of bitter about it though. 

His arm tickled. 

It kind of itched too.

He swatted and scratched at his arm and all that happened was the feeling got transferred to his hand.

Scott opened his eyes and saw tiny little stream of ants crawling up his arm. He shrieked, more out of surprise than anything. He half expected to be sedated for that, but nothing happened.

"You okay, man?" Wilson asked somewhere next to him.

"Yeah, yeah I just--"

He looked down. They held a tiny transceiver, and he stuck it in his ear. He wondered if he should thank them or something.

A voice came in, clear as a bell. "Scott, do you hear me?"

"Hope?"

"Are you talking to yourself again, Lang?" Barton shouted.

"I was singing, Barton, and no. Hope, what's going on?"

"Once again, saving your skin from prison."

"You're the one who got me  _in_ jail last time."

"Cap should get to you guys in a few minutes. I'll catch up as soon as I take care of surveillance and unlock the cells."

"Hope, that's crazy."

There was a pretty nasty smack and a heavy thud outside the door. Another minute of muffled shouting and and banging, and sure enough, there he was. Cap's face was a canvas of bruises all at different stages of healing, but the guy smiled when he saw them. The ugly florescent lights that were never turned off for "safety reasons" glowed like a halo Rogers' light blond hair, and Scott was fucking in love.

Barnes wasn't far behind. He mumbled something into his own earpiece, and a few seconds later the cell doors slid open. The lights shut off too, leaving only the flickering emergency one on.

Wilson crushed Rogers in backbreaking embrace. Barton sprinted over to help Maximoff, ripping off what he could with his bare hands. Barnes pulled a knife and helped slice off what was left. There was something in that look he had while cutting through the fabric, like it wasn't enough. Like the strips falling to the ground needed to be exorcised and burned. Like the thing had been on Barnes instead, and he was finally getting his revenge it. All said and done, he slid back to Rogers' side without a word, and let Maximoff cry into Barton's shoulder.

"About damn time. Was starting to think you were gonna leave us here," Sam said.  Cap rubbed the back of neck sheepishly.

"Turns out this place was a little hard to break into. Natasha is better at this sort of thing." His voice trailed off at that last part, like the words spilled out before he could catch himself. Sam threw his arm over Cap's shoulder. 

"Don't sweat it. Priority now is getting Wanda out of that collar. She can't leave this room without shutting the thing off."

Roger did a double take, face falling in disgust. But he didn't voice whatever was going through his head. There was some sort of fluttery noise coming from the vents, when something came bursting through one of the tiny grates with a swarm a little ants right behind. The whole mess landed in front of Scott, but the ants moved out of the way and full grown person popped up to regular height. The helmet retracted and there was Hope, looking smug as anything and Scott was falling in love all over again. 

He planted a quick kiss to her gloved hand, and she rolled her eyes.

"My hero. Do I get to be carried out of here bridal style?" 

Hope could barely hold back smile mixed with exasperation. "Hank is unbearable without you around to use as a guinea pig. This seemed like the easiest solution."

"Aw, I missed you too. And you're just in time to pull some live wires." He gestured to Maximoff.

Clint had backed off, and now Maximoff stood there hardly moving, like jerking around too quickly might set the thing off. Hope got her face up close, carefully sliding a finger along the metal. She frowned, circling Wanda and not taking her eyes off the tech. She hit the buttons on her suit, eliciting a gasp from Wilson and Barton. After half a minute of nervous glances and the light fluttering of tiny wings, Hope popped back up to normal size. Maximoff actually squeaked in surprise. 

"This thing is suppose to be rigged to explode?"

Wilson raised an eyebrow. "That's what Ross said. Why?"

Hope squinted at it. "I won't be able to get in and disable the wires, but I think the best this thing can do, anyway, is maybe give enough of a shock to knock her out. I mean, it would hurt like a bitch, might even stop her heart for a second, but it's not designed to  _explode._ "

Rogers had a whole different look of horror on his face now. "How sure are you."

Her eyes flicked to Barnes and back so quickly, Scott might have been the only one who noticed. She stood up straight, and reached into a pouch on her hip. "Pretty damn sure. I think we can risk just enlarging it without hurting her." Hope held up one of the little blue disk throwing disks.

Rogers shifted uncomfortably. "I'm not sure if we should."

"Steve." Everyone turned and looked at Barnes, who hadn't said a single word until now. His voice was deep and low, but it didn't waver. "The only other way is deactivating it manually from one of the computers. I couldn't even hack the system to turn off the lights, let alone accessing that thing. We only have so much time if we want to leave with everyone."

Maximoff snatched the disk, closed her eyes, and pressed it against the collar. In a split second the collar was nearly ten feet in diameter, punching a hole in the wall where she stood too close. Maximoff took in a huge, shuddering breath. She opened her eyes, and her face split into a huge grin. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief, she stepped out, and Barton pulled her in for a hug. 

Hope quietly threw a shrinking disk next, and the collar disappeared with pop and a little puff of smoke, almost like it-

Scott's eyes went wide. No one else was paying attention. She gave him a stare.  _That_ stare. The one he knew meant to zip it until they were alone, because Hope always had things under control. Barnes flashed him the same look.

Rogers looked like he just narrowly avoided a heart attack, and clapped his hands together once, grabbing everyone's attention. "Jeez. OKAY. Ms. Van Dyne has been kind enough to provide transportation. We have about... five minutes to hop on before our chances of getting out of here go down very quickly. Let's move out."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like the relationship Hope and Scott have would be one that starts out with sex, and quietly turns into gross, mushy romance that neither of them would dare admit out loud because they have _reputations,_ dammit. They'd probably get married on a dare and argue the whole way through it because if they took it seriously even for a second they wouldn't know what to do with themselves and panic the fuck out. But I digress...
> 
> also holy crap you guys have no idea how many times I had to go back and change "Janet" to "Hope" b/c I kept fucking forgetting. If Janet doesn't show up in the MCU in the Ant-Man& Wasp movie I s2g I will flip. _my. **shit.**_


	2. Ship Anchor

It was a big, fancy ass looking helicopter, but the seven of still them barely managed to squeeze in. Wilson took over for Barnes who'd flown it in (God only knew how, and all Rogers did was beam at Barnes like he was made of sunshine and rainbows when he told them that), and sat shoulder to shoulder with Rogers instead. The two of them were practically on top of each other, but they still hunkered down and tried to make themselves as small as their bulk would allow. Hope shrunk again, and sat on Scott's shoulder, occasionally chipping in with news updates about what he'd missed the past couple weeks. Most of it just mundane, domestic-y type things. Barton had joined Wilson up front, leaving Maximoff fall asleep, head on her chest and snoring slightly. It was the most fun Scott'd had in days.

Rogers drifted off too, after a while. Leaving just Scott, Hope, and Barnes all in a three way staring contest. Barnes somehow managed to scoot even  _closer_ to Rogers. They might have just started phasing into one another at this point.

"So," Scott said, keeping his voice low. "We gonna talk about it?"

Barnes glared. Hope stretched her tiny body off in Scott's peripheral. "What, about how I unlocked the cells? Pretty easily, actually. We couldn't hack 'em so first I fried the system with the crazy ants and then-"

Barnes swept some hair aside. "We took the risk we needed to with the collar on Maximoff. It paid off, and everyone's safe now. That's all there is to it."

Hope rolled her eyes. Scott couldn't see it but he knew she did anyway. "The only thing we were in danger from was running out of time," she admitted. "As it was, the air force was already heading our way. The copter is about as stealthy as it can be, but it can't outrun a jet. I was only half lying, though. It really was only meant to shock her. Unless it went too far out of bounds, of course."

"And that's that." Barnes dropped his head against Rogers. 

"That's that." Hope agreed. 

"How did this all come together anyway. You three meet on the way in and just decide to team up?"

Barnes actually smiled at that. It wasn't even half as creepy as Scott imagined it might be. "She found us. Wanted to bless Steve out for making her life difficult."

"Slight over-simplification, but he's not wrong."

"Ye-ah, but last I saw you two you were on your way to Siberia to fight super assassins, so how-"

"Scott."

"Hope?"

"Just enjoy the moment, okay?"

Scott raised his hands in defeat.

\-----

They must have flown for at least four hours. Scott thought it's would've been smarter to land ASAP, but far be it from him to criticize the guys helping him out of a life sentence. By the time they landed, it was either really late night or really early in the morning, depending on how you looked at it. It was foggy too, with mist clinging to the sides and windows. He looked out the window, and if it weren't for the small waves lapping the shore, Scott could've just as easily mistook the ocean for more land. As it was, it looked like a featureless swath of shimmering ink, turning into a blurry line at the vanishing point.

They landed and hopped out onto the tarmac. At some point Hope must have snuck off and changed into street clothes. It was hard to tell in the dark, but her gloves and wings were definitely gone. And when Maximoff let out out an audible shiver, Hope shucked a cardigan off her shoulders and wrapped it around the kid and pat her awkwardly on the back. It was genuinely adorable, and Scott thanked God that Hope couldn't see him pursing his lips together to hold back a huge grin. Hope lead the way, and they all huddled close together like flock of ducklings.

"Ugh, smells like marshland and horse shit," Barton declared, a little too loudly. "Where the hell are we?"

"Chincoteague," Hope said briskly.

Wilson hummed in agreement. "Yup, that'll do it."

Barton sneezed. "Ugh. That'll do what?"

"All these islands around here, man. They're crawling with wild ponies. Can't go down the road without driving past their giant piles of shit. They like hanging out around the freshwater marshes mostly, though."

"I was about to say 'sounds like a place my kids would enjoy' until you got to the piles of shit part. Actually, they'd probably still go wild. Who am I kidding."

Barton let out a bitter laugh. It took Scott a second to figure out why, because he had the same thought. Sun, sand,  _and_ ponies? Cassie would go nuts if she knew such a place existed. And then he remembered why they were here at all.

Right.

Hope stopped suddenly and they all nearly fell over top one another. They were in front of a big white, square building. The door was locked with a keypad and and had one thin line of rust near the hinges, which Scott could only see because of a small spotlight above the frame. One of the bulbs was out. it bothered him more than it probably should've.

Cap finally spoke for what had have been the first time in hours. "Should I," he cleared his throat and made a little jerking motion with his arm. "Should Bucky...?"

Hope held up one finger and pulled out her phone. The other end picked up after three rings. 

"Hi, Jameson, we're here. Is it okay if we come in?"

Scott couldn't understand what the guys was saying, but it didn't matter, because a few second later the door swung open. The guy was young, with milky skin and a few pimples just barely hidden by some dark brown stubble. His dress shirt was a size too big and rolled up at the sleeves, and an ID hung off a crisp lanyard around his neck.

"Ms. Pym-"

"Van Dyne."

"Ms. Van Dyne! Nice to meet you again." They shook hands, firm and quick. His movements were a little more professional than his appearance would've otherwise suggested. Please, come in."

The filed in one by one. The hallways were almost claustrophobicly narrow, and all and all gave off a distinctly "government building" vibe. Jameson lead them into a crowded back room. Or rather, it was actually pretty empty and minimalist, but nearly all the floor space was taken up by a bulky conference table and plush faux-leather office chairs. The walls were bare and the overhead lights were florescent and tinted yellow, with little piles of bugs that had managed to crawl in the glass and die there.

"Sorry about the room. The rest of the building is actually really modern and nice, but I figured you'd want your privacy, and no one comes back to these older rooms unless we need to store equipment."

"Thank you so much. I owe you big time. Can I meet you out front in a few minutes? I have to talk to my team first."

"No problem," he smiled. "Just warning you now though, everyone's going to want to meet you. Get what you need to get done now, because all of 'em out there will be shmoozing you for money for the next hour."

Hope gave one of her charming "media smiles", and Jameson let the door close behind him with a click.

Silence.

They all looked at one another, not wanting to break it.

Scott took the dive. "Sorry, where are we again?"

Wilson answered first. "Wallops Flight Facility, right? You sure we can trust that guy?"

Hope smirked. "The good people here at NASA will keep their mouths shut if I dangle a grant in front of them. Jameson's a good kid, and no dummy either. He'll only say anything if he's asked. He's hoping to get to the ISS someday, after all. And a recommendation from Pym Tech looks really nice on a resume."

"But we're not staying here, right?" Maximoff piped up.

Hope opened and closed her mouth wordlessly. It took her a minute to find the right thing to say. "That is up to you all and Cap. I just coordinated the escape. Honestly, I don't really know what to do next. So for now, I'm just going to go and mingle with the space crew." She squeezed out from behind the chairs and head towards the door. She put her hand on Scott's shoulder, letting it linger for just a few moments longer than it needed to. And she was gone.

Scott's heart was pounding in this throat. He swore was like, a fourth of the way hard. Jeez, he'd missed her. It hadn't even been that long, what was wrong with him?

He pointed at the door with a big goofy grin on his face. "That's my girlfriend."

"Calm down, Lang."

\-----

It must have been some grant she promised them, because they even managed to finagle a few rides from the employees to the next town over snag some hotel rooms. It was just barely still the off season, so that plus the time of day meant few people around. The whole staff seemed to be made up of Russian immigrants, and the next thing they knew Barnes was charming the pants off everyone of them. The guy at the desk didn't even notice when Barnes slipped him an obviously fake ID to rent to rooms with, and didn't even care when a few crumpled hundred dollar bills were passed over the surface instead of a credit card. He just laughed and playfully swatted at Barnes' good shoulder, and handed them all their key-cards without a fuss.

They split in two parties: one room for the girls, and one for the boys. Keep it simple, keep it together in case they needed to run. Scott whined that he should get to bunk with the girls, on account of he and one of the girls being the only couple in the group. Wilson nearly choked on the coffee he'd gotten from the lobby at that. Hope couldn't even muster the energy to roll her eyes, and instead settled for an emotionless glare.

"We'll get a change of clothes in the morning," Rogers announced before they split. "And then we're going to decide who's going where. T'challa has offered sanctuary to all of us in Wakanda should we need it. Ms. Van Dyne is the only one not in danger of staying here in the states. Going back to your families may compromise them. Wakanda would just be a short term solution until we can straighten things out, but I know it's still a big change. Everyone just sleep on it, okay? T'challa will have a plane ready for us as the flight facility around noon. I'm sorry I've dragged you all into this, but I want to make it right, if you'll let me."

They all nodded their head solemnly, and parted ways.

\-----

They wrestled, as quietly as they could, for the beds. Barnes and Rogers teamed up and claimed the bed closest to the door and in front of the TV, kicking the rest of them off mercilessly. Scott and Barton got a few good licks in before resolving to share the one closer to the wall and next to the noisy in-room temperature control. Wilson avoided the whole ordeal, and called room service to bring up a fold out bed, and settled in on his own with a smug, satisfied grin.

"Well I've had worse. Can't tell you how many times I've had to sleep in the bath tub or the floor," Scott sighed. He loved Luis like a brother, but sharing that one bedroom with him after getting out of prison was, frankly, the worst.

"You and me both, brother," Barton mumbled, curling up and hugging his knees. In theory the guy as taking up less space like that, but only if Scott were sleeping at the foot of the bed. Scott just sighed again and didn't say anything. 

Wilson fell asleep almost immediately with his arms crossed. Which was ridiculous, really. You can't look that cool and collected while  _sleeping._ Had he been like that the whole time they were in the Raft?

Rogers and Barnes were practically spooning. If anyone had told Scott as a kid that in his 30's he'd be stuffed inside a hotel room, watching his fellow fugitive pal _Captain_ _Fucking America_ sleep in a bed next to him, he probably would've said that sounded like the best day ever.

Only now, all he could think about was Cassie, and how he might have to abandon her. Again.

His stomach turned.

He felt sick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the [space center is a real place](http://www.chincoteague.com/launches.html) btw, and it's awesome. They got a rly nice gift shop 
> 
> Also real: the ponies and their giant shit piles on the islands of Chincoteague and Assateague. U can catch me there during summer chasin horsies and crabbing on the docks


	3. Waffle Maker

After running into the first open store with clothes and buying a bunch of tacky tourist wear, they all went to breakfast together because life is stressful and their ride out of the country would be there in two hours anyway. It was a cute, vintage diner type place with tin ceiling tiles and "the best milkshakes since 1907" and how nice it must be to finally find something older than you guys! Wilson said cheerfully upon walking through the front door.

"Hilarious," Rogers replied, not breaking his stride.

It occurred to Scott he'd never really seen Hope eat breakfast before. Sure, he'd watched her make food, even stand near it. But never eat it. Maybe that's why it was so surprising when she ordered three huge Belgian waffles with whipped cream and strawberries piled ten feet high, and ate  _all of it._  It was amazing.

Maximoff picked through some bacon and toast sunny side up eggs so perfect looking Scott thought at first that they might have been made of rubber. Scott, like Barton and Wilson had gotten a stack of pancakes with sides of various meat. Barnes and Rogers each ordered three of the breakfast combo specials, and cups of cream and sugar with coffee added. Afterwards, Rogers asked if it wasn't too early for those "best milkshakes", and promptly ordered chocolate shakes for him and Barnes. The rest of them stared in horror as the two sucked their glasses dry in about a minute with satisfied smiles, staring at each other like love sick saps the whole time. The waitress must've recognized Cap at least, because she asked for a group photo. Rogers agreed, but only if she held off posting it anywhere for a day or two, so they could finish their "vacation" in peace. She giggled and nodded. Everyone posed, except for Hope, who hid tactfully behind a menu at the end of the table.

\-----

Rogers flipped his burner phone shut. "T'challa said the plane will be about an hour late. The pilot ran into a bad storm."

They all groaned. Barnes looked especially annoyed. Or maybe concerned. Like a hit squad was going to pop out of the ocean or drop from the clouds, and Scott didn't really blame him. There was no doubt a full on man hunt by now, and who knows if that girl kept her promise to wait. He supposed Cap could've said no the picture, but who knew if that would've stopped it either. He didn't even really want to leave, but what choice did he have?

Hope was going to wait with them until they left, and then rent a car to get to the nearest airport and fly home. She couldn't fly the helicopter on her own.

"I promised the nerds they could keep it as part of their grant."

Scott raised and eyebrow. "Won't Hank be a little upset you dumped a hundred thousand-some dollar chopper?"

"Hank can shove it."

He laughed. Hope didn't.

Scott cleared his throat. "I'm going to miss you. A lot."

Hope sighed. "You don't have to go with them."

"I kind of think I do. You heard Cap. I'd just risk getting caught and put Cassie in a bad spot."

"You can just, I don't know. Spend most of the time inside. Use the suit when you need to go out."

"That sounds insane."

"Less insane then going off to Germany and getting arrested?"

"I don't know how long I'm going to be on the run, here."

She made a little huff of annoyance. "No, you're right. You're right."

She made a move for his hand like she was going to hold it, but just pat it instead. Then, she suddenly stood up and declared, "I gotta go stretch my legs" and walked off.

Scott rubbed his forehead and groaned.

"Ugh. This sucks."

He stared at the ground for a while, and when he looked back up, Maximoff was standing there looking down at him. He nearly screamed again.

"You look troubled."

_Obviously?_

"Uh yeah, a little."

She sat down in Hope's spot. It was just a wooden bench in the shadow of the while, box shaped building. Everyone else was milling around on the tarmac or sitting with their butts squashed in the sand. Maximoff twiddled her thumbs, pointedly not looking at him, like she wanted to ask something but didn't know how to spit it out.

She drummed her fingers on the bench. "You're worried about the future."

He half scoffed, half chuckled at that. "Who isn't."

She was drumming with both hands now, and took three, quick, successive glance before taking a deep breath. "Can I try something?"

"Uh-"

"When I first met the Avengers, I was tasked with taking them down," she wiggled her fingers, "using my powers. I was suppose to just give them visions of their greatest fears but..."

" _But..."_

"It didn't just do that. I gave them glimpses of the future as well."

Scott couldn't imagine anyone trying to use kid this kid for evil. Honestly, what kind of monster...

"You want to help me see the future?"

"I think it might help you sort out your anxieties. You don't have to say yes, but I would try to make it less 'fear inducing' this time around."

He paused. "Did you offer this to the others?"

Maximoff turned slightly pink. "Oh, I couldn't. Not Steve or Clint, especially. Not without knowing I could do more than just hurt them. But I'm sure I can do it. I just have to know. We both need answers."

Ah, there it was. He was the test dummy, again. He didn't know why he was still so surprised every time. He glanced around for Hope, and she was nowhere to be seen.

"How long would it take."

"Just a few seconds. I promise."

One last look around. "Alright. Do it."

\-----

The whole world zoomed forward, voices all jumbling up growing louder and louder and then

it stopped.

He was back in San Francisco. The streets were suspiciously empty except for some parked cars and the sound of a distant rumble. He wandered around curiously. Only the now there were sirens, and people screaming, and soon he was sprinting around the corner.

_Ah, that's where everyone went._

It was a huge building, one of the downtown offices with like, ninety stories on it. And it was on fire. And there was someone there about a hundred feet tall pulling desperate civilians from the flames and setting them on the ground. 

_Is that me?_

Scott pushed his way through to the front of the crowd. It was the Ant-Man suit definitely, or at least some updated version of it. Only whoever was wearing it looked awfully young, and with much wider hips than he believed himself to have. He pat at his side. Yup, no hips like that.

The giant let down a handful of business people with singed pant suits onto the ground, where first responders pushed Scott aside and led the people to the ambulances. The person's head was low enough to the ground that he could see their enormous eyes, and little tufts of blond hair sticking out from under the helmet. Scott felt like he'd just been hit in the head with a club.

" ** _Cassie?_** "

The giant head turned towards him and

the world was rushing by again.

\-----

A hospital this time. He was outside the door with a file in the little slot that had "Lang" scribbled on it in a doctor's messy handwriting. Scott swung the door open in a panic.

"Scott!"

"Maggie?"

"What the hell do you think you're doing here?"

His mouth opened but nothing came out. In the hospital bed sleeping, clutching the hideous rabbit he'd given her forever ago. She was young again, but not as young as he knew her now. But she still looked impossibly tiny in the oversized hospital gown.

Maggie got up from her chair by the bed. She had dark rings around her eyes, and looked like she hadn't showered in a week.

"You think you can come bursting in here After not hearing a peep from you for two years? We thought you were dead, Scott. Where the hell have you been?" she said, just barely keeping from shouting. "Who called you here? Who could possibly contact you and get you to come here now, of all times? Do you even know what's going on?"

He looked at Cassie, and back to Maggie. "I-"

"Heart surgery, Scott."

His eyes went wide. He felt faint, and gripped the bedside railing until the color drained from his hand. "Heart surgery."

"She has a congenital heart defect. Diagnosed not long after you went missing. You selfish  _prick._ "

"No. No nonono no. Please..."

\-----

He opened his eyes to Maximoff watching him with worried eyes.

"I'm sorry. You looked distressed I just- I was so sure. I'm so, so sorry."

Scott took a deep breath and blinked.

"No that was," he leaned back a little and felt calm. "That was exactly what I needed. Thank you."

He needed to find Hope. It was time to go home.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally I found something for poor Wanda to do rather then just sit around lookin cool
> 
> also, sorry, I know I tagged this with "stucky" and then went exactly nowhere with it. but I refuse to remove it b/c they are in love, damn it. forever and ever
> 
> I'm considering writing a companion piece to this where they're all on the way to Wakanda and Bucky asks for a vision too. Tie up all the loose ends with everyone who isn't Hope or Scott and whatnot

**Author's Note:**

> come quietly watch me from afar on my [main tumblr](http://hjbaltimore.tumblr.com) or my [comic book blog](http://thewinterboulder.tumblr.com) where I like to post pictures of superhero butts 'n tiddies


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